The wind

It is the year when the moon is round, the windows are full of osmanthus, the jade and the sky are shining, and the mountains and rivers are reflected.

Eight prefectures in the south of the Yangtze River, Zhenjiang, and Dantu.

The gust of wind passed through the ears, and there was a faint smell of blood in the gust of wind.

In the courtyard, the man put away his long sword expressionlessly, and stepped on the ground stump, as if he was about to leave.

"Pan Lang..." A weak female voice came from behind. The man turned around and looked at the woman lying on the ground—she had disheveled hair, one eyeball hanging out of the eye socket, and her clothes were soaked with blood. In the original color, the lower body was almost cut off at the waist, and blood was gurgling out. The woman looked like a worm, looking at the man's back, and crawled forward with difficulty.

"Pan Lang, Pan Lang, why are you..." Hearing the sound, the man turned around and squatted down, staring at the woman on the ground, a flawless face was outlined by the gloomy moonlight.He smiled, stretched out his hand to slowly caress the woman's face, his slender fingers rubbed the woman's face mixed with blood, and fainted layer after layer of blood stains.

After a while the man opened his mouth, his voice was cold and bewildering: "I am guilty, how could I forget you." After speaking, his hands slowly moved down to the woman's weak neck, and in an instant, the joints of his hands burst out, and he firmly grasped the woman's body. throat.

"You...don't... die." The woman's tone-changing voice was extremely shrill, and her hands subconsciously grabbed the man's wrist—there was still the woman's onion root, the flesh of the five fingers had already been peeled off, and only some skin was left to barely pull With thick bones.

"I'd like to borrow your good words." The man tightened his hands leisurely, with the corners of his mouth slightly raised, admiring the woman's last corner of resistance.

The woman hangs her last breath, desperately holding the man's wrist, accompanied by the sound of cracking bones, after a while, her hands hang down silently,

The man casually threw the woman's body aside, and behind him, there were scattered corpses that had already shown the appearance of being sick.Throwing it casually like this, the man suddenly felt something strange on his wrist, and through the moonlight, he realized that the woman's dying struggle just now had left a mark on him—several scars pierced by finger bones were oozing out soundlessly. Blood.

The man frowned, hid the wound under his cuffs, and stepped out of the courtyard, while the word "Yang Fu" written on the plaque behind him was weeping blood.

The man took a few steps forward, and saw a person standing under a tree, as if he had been waiting for him.

"Wish done?"

Seeing the person who came, the man seemed to be discouraged, he put away the ghostly appearance just now, staggered, fell into the arms of the man, and murmured: "Li... Zhong Nan, I am very tired."

The man was startled, and didn't respond to the man, but he said in doubt: "You go to talk about things, why are you covered in blood?"

The man closed his eyes and said nothing, but a snow-white three-foot long sword was sticking out of his back, and it was fitting the man's flesh and blood, emitting a radiant red light.

……

It was misty and rainy, and a messy sound of horseshoes could be heard in the distance.A jade horse snorted loudly from far to near.

The fog surrounded the horse's hooves, and the rain reflected in the eyes of the man on the horse.

The young man on horseback, dressed in white and plain robes, had a pale face, as if he had just recovered from a serious illness, he couldn't see the man's eyebrows, but he didn't seem to be the son of a wealthy family.The man had neither a coir raincoat nor an umbrella, he was holding the rein in one hand and the whip in the other, and he was carrying a long box on his back. He didn't slow down his pace at all because of the rain and fog, and went straight to the end of the Luan forest.

The old man has been living under the Luan grove beside the road since he doesn't know when, and he doesn't know his last name.He stood by the side of the road all day long, staring at people and horses. After all, a few li further south along the forest was Li's Mansion in Jinling.Therefore, the old man is always the first to know about any distinguished guests coming to the Li family, which young lady in the Li family is getting married, and what treasures the Li family has rewarded by the Holy Spirit.There are always those who are very curious about the family background of the Li family, or those who want to establish a relationship with the Li family, will come to the old man's forest to inquire about it, and the old man is willing to talk about it.

Today, the old man saw this chaotic shadow from a long distance, so he hunched his back, leaned on a cane with one hand, stopped the man and the horse with the other, and said, "I don't dare to go there, that is the mansion of Jinling Li." The old man is kind-hearted, if he sees people who are lost or come from other places, he will kindly remind them not to rush to where Li's residence is.

Hearing what the old man said, the clinker immediately young man didn't show any intention of turning back, but nodded and said: "Thank you, I understand."

Hearing the man's pure Jinling accent, he walked straight away from the old man, clamped the horse's belly with his legs, and the steed galloped away.

The old man looked at the dust and smoke rolled up by the man and the horse, and murmured: "Another brat who doesn't know the heights of the sky and the earth, and has the courage to act wildly on the Li family's territory in Jinling." The old man's "again" was not without reason: The last person who dared to swing his whip on the main road of Li's mansion, probably reported it to the King of Hades already.The old man sighed, turned around and was about to leave, but he seemed to think of something, trembling all over in the rain and fog, opened his mouth, but didn't close it for a long time.

The author has something to say: debut.

Pang: péngpāng the sound of wind hitting objects.From Song Yu's "Feng Fu" in the Warring States Period: "Floating and torrential, stirring up anger."

菹醢: zūhǎi ancient torture.Chop people into mincemeat.

If readers are interested in reading down, remember not to jump to conclusions~ It is guaranteed to be very good~